


the true meaning of christmas (is getting to at least first base with anyone and everyone)

by gdgdbaby



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Multi, Pre-Slash, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gdgdbaby/pseuds/gdgdbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko's parents own, like, an entire island in the tropics or something, which is pretty sweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the true meaning of christmas (is getting to at least first base with anyone and everyone)

**Author's Note:**

> the one where sokka gets spectacularly drunk and misappropriates the mistletoe, written for advent. originally posted at [livejournal](http://gdgdbaby.livejournal.com/101591.html).

The winter after sophomore fall semester, they all go to Zuko and Azula's mansion, because New England's fucking freezing as per usual and Zuko's parents own, like, an entire island in the tropics or something, which is pretty sweet.

Aang and Katara wake up early their first day there and spend the next twelve hours exploring the island. Sokka's content to stay at the house with Toph and lounge by the pool doing absolutely nothing all day. He's _deserved_ this—exams were fucking killer, and he's still kind of traumatized by that last chemistry lab practical that basically everyone failed (except Katara, of course, but then she's Katara).

 

 

Azula and her friends plan some elaborate party for Christmas Eve. Prep involves acquiring copious amounts of alcohol because their parents are away on business and they can do whatever the hell they want, boatloads of fresh sashimi (which Sokka is always up for), and vague threats for the boys to stop loitering about and help hang up decorations. Sokka agrees because Azula's the type of brilliant crazy that people don't argue with, and because Zuko mentioned once that she was some sort of judo black belt and Sokka really doesn't want to mess around with that.

Which is how he ends up with an armful of mistletoe to tack up in strategic places an hour before the party's supposed to start, Ty Lee's voice floating down from the roof where she's putting lights up with Suki.

"I wasn't sure what to get everybody," she's saying, and Suki murmurs something sympathetic. "It's hard shopping for people you've known all your life, you know? I ended up having to go with—"

Sokka pinwheels and nearly falls off the ladder to his death in his haste to stop listening. He _hates_ spoilers—for books, for television, for real life.

Ty Lee's head pops down through one of the big floor-to-ceiling windows at the crash. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Sokka says, wincing as he prods the blooming bruise on his shin. "Perfectly fine."

 

 

It's not Sokka's fault that the punch at the party ends up being highly addictive and super-potent. "Our uncle's in the brewing business," Zuko explains around the rim of his plastic cup. "It's a family thing?"

"This shit is delicious," Sokka slurs, and grabs another cup. So maybe his lack of impulse control is sort of at fault, here, but can anyone really blame him? "Aang, you have to try some."

Aang shakes his head and grins. "Don't drink."

"Your loss," Sokka says, shrugging. "More for me."

Toph raises her eyebrows when he leans heavily against her, arm slung around her shoulder. "Maybe we should cut you off."

"Sorry about him," Katara says drily. "Sokka's kind of a clingy drunk."

"I am so not a clingy drunk," he protests. "I respect personal space."

 

 

Okay, so Sokka's a clingy drunk. It's fucking Christmas Eve, everyone deserves a little love, and it doesn't help that whatever's in the punch makes him feel like a human-sized amoeba.

The urge to make out with everyone sneaks up on him when he's hanging off Aang's shoulder, around the same time he remembers he has unfettered access to as much mistletoe as he wants. How he manages to acquire some without breaking his neck he doesn't remember—just that he's got a sprig of it in his hand one moment and the next he's leaning in to grab Aang's face.

Aang lets out a loud squawk of protest and pulls back so fast Sokka's head spins a little. "Did you just Fredo-kiss me?" he asks, wiping a hand over his mouth.

"Of course not," Sokka says, wrinkling his nose. "We're not brothers, for one. Though I guess—with Katara—never mind. Get into the Christmas spirit, Aang! Fredletoe kissing!"

 

 

The next person he manages to corner is Toph, who zones in on the mistletoe in his hand and actually blushes a little. Cute.

The angle's a little awkward because she's so much shorter than he is, but he makes it work. Her lips are smooth and she's wearing some type of fruity lip-gloss that tastes nice. She's grinning when he breaks the kiss. "Merry Christmas, Toph," he says, pressing a hand to his chest gravely.

She clears her throat. "That better not be the only gift you got me, ass."

"Why do you think so little of me?" Sokka asks, feigning hurt. She rolls his eyes and punches him in the shoulder.

 

 

He's pleasantly surprised that Azula even lets him get to first base with her, mostly because she's scary intimidating and he definitely wouldn't even have tried if it weren't for her uncle's enabling alcohol, and also did he mention the black belt thing? She's a very good kisser, at any rate, the kind of girl who really goes for it once she gets started, and it takes a pointed tap on the shoulder from Katara for Sokka to finally unglue himself from her.

"We should continue this in the near future," he calls as Katara drags him away. Azula just rolls her eyes and goes back to her conversation with Ty Lee.

 

 

The last hour of the party involves cake and beer pong and Sokka kissing two of Zuko's friends from home, Suki, Ty Lee, and backing off when Mai stares pointedly at the cake knife on the refreshment table. He gets to Katara and gives her a wet one on the cheek. "You're a mess," she says fondly, plucking the mistletoe from his hands.

"I love you, too," he says with feeling, and collapses on a couch in the corner. He really fucking hopes nobody has mono. That would put a damper on his holiday spirit.

 

 

He's not sure when he loses consciousness, just that he wakes up and there are a couple of people passed out on the floor next to the sofa and the clock mounted on the wall reads three in the morning on Christmas Day. Also, he feels like someone's happily taken a battering ram to his head.

He totters to one of the bathrooms off the main hallway and peels some other passed-out chick away from the sink, rinses his mouth out as best he can and splashes some water in his face. He spends a couple of minutes steadying himself against the door and making sure he really, really is not about to upchuck all the contents of his stomach before venturing outside again.

His footsteps echo oddly down the corridor. He makes it to the staircase and neatly trips over a shadow crouched at the base of it.

The shadow lets out a grunt of pain. "Ah!" Sokka yelps eloquently, and jumps back. "Who are you? Ghost of Christmas Past?!"

"Calm down," comes Zuko's voice, "it's just me."

"Oh," says Sokka, rubbing where his knee collided with the smooth wood of the stairs. "Fuck, that hurt."

"Sorry," Zuko says. He steps into the light, hair disheveled. He glances up and a weird look crosses his face, like he isn't sure whether to run or hide. Sokka knows this because they'd taken an intro writing class together last spring, and he'd seen that exact expression before when the professor had started quoting really terrible love poetry at him. "Uh—"

Sokka yawns. "What is it?" He follows Zuko's glance and sees the mistletoe he'd hung up in the afternoon. "Oh, I see." He grins. "Well, you know what to do."

There's a brief, errant thought that Sokka's pretty glad he'd just gargled tap water a few minutes ago, and then Zuko's leaning in and kissing him carefully, a warm hand reaching up to press against the nape of Sokka's neck. It's nice and warm and doesn't make his head hurt anymore than it already is, which is a plus in Sokka's book.

Zuko rocks back on his heels when it's over, that look still on his face. There's a long moment of awkward silence, and Sokka's stomach does this odd flip-flop thing, which he attributes to the stupid punch. "Dude, don't make it weird," he says at last, sighing. "Merry Christmas, Zuko. I got you a super sweet present, by the way, so get excited about that." A lie—he'd gotten everyone white elephant gifts because hey, he's working on a poor college student budget. It's the thought that counts, anyway.

"Yeah," Zuko says uncomfortably, turning on his heel. "Merry Christmas."

Strange. But Zuko's always been a strange dude, so this is just par for the course, really. Sokka shakes it off and makes his way upstairs. He's out like a light before his head even hits the pillow.


End file.
